Intersections
by Never Walk
Summary: John and Rodney keep crossing paths. AU Slash!
1. A first meeting

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man jogged up and grabbed the little boy reaching for the woman's purse.

She turned to see the boy, no more than four years old; his head covered in wild, dark hair and big hazel eyes. Smiling, she replied, "It's okay, he wasn't hurting anything; I didn't even notice he was there."

The man took the boy's hand and pulled him closer. "All the same, I'm sorry. He likes anything shiny, and I'm afraid the buckle on your purse caught his attention."

"Really, it's fine. I know how boys can be at that age," she gestured to another boy standing just a few feet from her. The boy's face was buried in a book that looked a bit too advanced for a child his age, but no one mentioned it. With her attention now on her own son, she tried to take his book, but he moved away just as she reached forward. "Rodney, put your book down."

A half smile on his face, the man glanced down to his boy, "John, say 'hi' to Rodney."

The boy's face transformed into an enormous grin as he spoke, "Hi, Wodney."

"We're still working on our 'R's, aren't we, John?" the man reddened slightly, picking up his son.

Giving the two strangers another grin, she turned back to Rodney and nudged him, "Rodney, what do you say?"

Rodney barely acknowledged her request with a grunt, and continued to read his book, never looking up.

"I swear," she forced a laugh, "he never puts down his books. Actually, he's very shy…Rodney doesn't like talking to strangers."

"Oh, that's okay, isn't it, John?" the man tickled his son's stomach, eliciting a squeal of delight.

"Wodney!"

Sighing, Rodney finally looked up from his book and focused on the boy in his father's arms. John called his name again and waved. Rodney closed his book as he watched the little fingers curl in his direction. A smile on his own lips, he waved back, "Hi, John."

"Well, we'd better be going. Say 'bye', John," the man told his son.

The bright smile dimmed, "Bye, Wodney."

"Bye, John," Rodney waved.

As the man turned to walk away, John hugged his father, watching the mother and son in the growing distance. He kept waving back at Rodney, whose grin had disappeared, but who had yet to reopen his book.


	2. 10 years later

**10 years later**

"What are we doing here?" Charlie asked, sighing as he slumped against the wall.

Not looking up from the stack of papers in his hands, Rodney replied, "I know why _I'm_ here, but I have no idea what _you're_ doing here. Or anyone else from our school, for that matter."

"Excuse me, Rodney?"

"I'm simply answering your question. This is basically a one-day conference to allow gifted students, such as me, to interact with gifted youths from other schools. I clearly belong here as I _am_ a genius, but I have no idea why _you_ are here." He looked up to scan the rest of the large room, taking inventory of the hundred other students in attendance. "In fact, I'm not sure why most of the people here are here. Look at that group over there all wearing those ridiculous identical shirts. It looks like they have a collective IQ of 50!"

"We can't all be geniuses, Rodney."

"Unfortunately not."

"Why 'unfortunately'?" another boy asked. He'd been standing a short distance to the side, barely noticed, but now Rodney and Charlie both turned to him in silent question. "I'm just saying that if everyone was a genius, then who really _would_ be? Isn't 'genius' defined as someone with _extraordinary_ intelligence? If everyone was that smart, it wouldn't be extraordinary anymore. Hence, unfortunate for those few, _true_ geniuses."

Rodney had the distinct feeling there was a healthy dose of mocking sarcasm in that statement…and that he was the object of it. And what was going on with this new boy's hair? What that kind of mussing could produce _that_? "Do you always listen in on others' conversations?"

The new boy shrugged a shoulder. "My group arrived late, and we had too many people on our team for this activity. A few of us were told to go join smaller teams, and guess what – I got you," the right side of his lips rose in a way that made Rodney blush and look away.

"You mean we got you. And who would you be?" Rodney asked, still not looking at the new boy.

"John Sheppard."

"I'm Charlie, and this is Rodney," the third boy took a step closer to the newest addition to their team.

"Rodney, eh?" John's smirk slowly became a grin that even made his eyes sparkle.

There was something about that smile that was vaguely familiar.

"Well," Charlie grumbled, "let's get started on this."

"Yes, because I'm starving."

"Rodney, we just had breakfast," Charlie uncapped one of the markers they'd been given.

"I'm hypoglycemic, you know that!" A second later, a granola bar was shoved into the hand closest to John.

Not waiting for Rodney's question, John answered, "You said you were hungry. We were given granola bars with our breakfast, but I didn't eat mine. Go ahead…wouldn't want you fainting from hunger." If it was possible, his grin seemed even wider.

Again, Rodney wondered where he knew John's smile from. It wasn't until that night, lying in bed, that one word came to mind. Wodney.


	3. 11 years later

**11 years later**

"Why am I here again?" Rodney whispered to the woman sitting in the pew beside him. He scooted another inch closer to her in order to escape the overpowering cologne of the man sitting on his other side.

Pinching his arm, she answered, "Rodney, the bride is our cousin. You _have_ to go to family weddings. Now be quiet, and, by all that is holy, put your sunglasses up. They look ridiculous on you."

"I like them. And I'm perfectly aware that she's our cousin, but why couldn't you have come alone, Jeanie? It's not like that side of the family _wants_ me here."

"If you only went to places where people actually _wanted_ you, you'd never leave your apartment."

Before he could respond, his attention was caught by a man standing in the side aisle, looking for a seat. Rodney's eyes were immediately dragged to the stranger's crazy mess of hair, then slowly descended to focus on warm, hazel eyes. And why were those eyes so familiar?

A sudden, knowing smirk appeared on the newcomer's face before he turned around and sat down two rows in front of the McKays.

Rodney's sister leaned over, "He is pretty cute. I'd go home with him tonight."

For some reason, the thought of the newcomer taking his sister home unsettled him, and not just because of the horrifying image of Jeanie naked. Glaring back at her, he scoffed, "Too bad for you he's gay."

"How can you tell? You only came out last year; there's no way you could have developed a decent gay-dar that quickly."

He nodded back to the hot stranger, "Just look at his hair. I don't need any more proof than that. Hair like that doesn't sit on top of a straight head. The best you're going to get out of him is bisexual, and I doubt even that."

The corners of her mouth sank. "I'd still take him home though."

"And compare curtain patterns?"

"Shut up, Rodney…the wedding is starting."

--------

From across the reception hall, Rodney watched the stranger with the hair walk towards him, a relaxed air about him and a cocky grin that made McKay want to pull him into a secluded area and strip off his clothes.

His fingers flexed, aching to run through the stranger's dark hair and see how wild it would be after a little mussing. Rolling his eyes, he murmured, "And I'm fantasizing about hair. There's no question about it…I need to get laid."

The stranger finally came to a halt a few feet away, his grin widening in a way that made Rodney smile against his will. "I can help with that."

Attempting his usual scowl, he asked, "Help with what?"

"Getting laid. That is what you said under your breath, right?"

"You always listen in on other's conversations?" Rodney countered, overcome with a sudden sense of déjà vu.

"Only yours." The smile grew again. "And I believe a conversation requires at least two people, unless you've got a split personality. If that's the case, forgive me for interrupting."

Narrowing his eyes, Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not doing a very good job of picking me up."

The stranger with the hair mirrored his stance, his expression suddenly smug. "Why waste my time when you're already willing to take me home? But if you want me to give you some line, I'm sure I can come up with something completely unoriginal to insult your _extraordinary_ intelligence."

"If you're next sentence is going to contain something about me running through your head all day, or falling from heaven, stop now."

Laughing, the stranger took another step towards Rodney. "If I was going to describe you, I think I'd have to use something more like 'kicked out of hell' than 'fell from heaven.' Now, are you ready to get out of here?"

"And why would I take a man I don't know home with me?"

"My name's John Sheppard, and I'm not a homicidal maniac or a Russian spy sent to kidnap any arrogant geniuses." His eyebrows rose in silent question.

"That works."

--------

Rodney held his breath as John's finger slid down the center of Rodney's chest towards the button of his khakis. He jumped when John's fingernail scraped over his left nipple, then gave the sensitive skin a little twist. His pulse sped when John's tongue ran along the shell of his ear, then dove inside. And, amazingly, every sensation felt more intense than the last.

Sheppard's lips brushed along Rodney's collar bone and the latter bucked so hard that John was almost thrown off of him.

"Relax," John breathed before licking his way into McKay's mouth. "We have all night."

The next morning, Rodney woke up naked and face down on his bed, his new sunglasses taken and a short note left in their place.


	4. 6 years later

------

**6 years later**

Rodney's lips pursed, "Save me from idiots, religious fanatics, and _dog_ owners." Slumping further into his couch, he turned up the volume on his television in an attempt to cover up the barking coming from next door.

Why did Mrs. Allistor have to move? She was the perfect next door neighbor: partially deaf, quiet, and willing to cook for him once a week since he reminded her of her grandson. The same grandson that just put her in a nursing home. The bastard.

Growling, he marched to the wall that separated his apartment from his neighbor's and banged three times. A muffled 'sorry' reached him a few minutes before the dog finally shut up. However, it wasn't fast enough for Rodney, because the barking interrupted the Doctor flirting with Captain Jack Harkness.

Usually Rodney thought of himself as a reasonable man, only given to rudeness when provoked by co-workers, stupid people, and…well…people in general. But when something came between him and watching two hot guys flirting, it was war. Making a mental note to talk to the apartment office in the morning, he turned up the volume again.

--------

Rodney glanced at the apartment door next to his while he locked his own. As if on cue, the dog-owning-neighbor, a man wearing jeans and a black turtleneck, strolled out. Rodney wasn't sure where from, but he remembered the man. Something about that wild head of hair…that housed a pair of sunglasses he instantly recognized.

Snapping his fingers, Rodney pointed at his neighbor. "You!"

The man seemed to finally notice McKay standing there, and instantly, a smug smirk spread across his face. "Good to see you too, Rodney. Also nice to be recognized for once," he said, closing his door.

"Those are my sunglasses!"

Turning back to Rodney, the man's lips lifted even higher. "_Were_ your sunglasses. Thanks, by the way." The man winked at Rodney before pulling the sunglasses over his eyes and walking down the hall towards the stairs.

Rodney followed down to the first floor, racking his brain for the man's name. "Wait! You said 'recognized for once'…you've known me every time?"

"That's right, Wodney," he said over his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Stopping just outside the building, he smiled at Rodney's accusatory tone. "Where would the fun be in that?"

"I want my sunglasses back."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but possession is nine-tenths of the law," he said, tapping his finger to the side of the sunglasses. "See you around, Rodney."

-tbc-


	5. 12 hours later

--------

**12 hours later**

Rodney paced the length of his living room, running the plan over in his head. It wasn't his best idea, by far, but all of the others involved climbing into bed with his endearingly smug neighbor.

Did he say endearingly? Annoyingly. _Annoyingly_.

So what if the thought of sleeping with What's-his-name again made him hard? The sex wasn't _that_ great. Just ordinary sex with the hottest man Rodney had ever met. It didn't mean anything at all that Rodney rarely slept with guys anymore; it certainly didn't imply that he'd been spoiled for sex by his neighbor. He was merely worried that he'd wake up to find another pair of sunglasses stolen by a post-coital klepto. Nothing else.

But that brought up the note. _The_ note. 'It was fun.' It was _fun_? What the hell kind of morning after note was that? Three words. Just three words to describe the best night of Rodney's life.

He heard commotion in the apartment beside his, and knew it was time to act. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down because he really needed to look relaxed for what was coming up.

--------

His dog-owning neighbor opened the door, his usual smirk instantly appearing, "How nice of you to drop by, Rodney."

Speechless, Rodney gazed at his flushed and sweaty neighbor. "Um…can I come in?"

"Of course," he answered, stepping back to allow McKay entrance, then closing the door behind him.

The next few moments were silent as Rodney continued to stare at the man, obviously fresh from a work-out. The dog must have gone along too since he was stretched out on the couch, sleeping peacefully. At least there wouldn't be any barking for a while.

"Still can't remember my name, can you?" The smirk transformed into a grin. "I guess I should have signed my name to that note after all."

Rodney collected himself instantly. "You're rather sweaty."

"I just got back from a run."

"Well, would you mind going to change? The body odor and sweat rings are distracting me."

His neighbor's eyes sparkled as he replied, "Stop, Rodney, you'll make me blush."

Not quite the response McKay had expected.

"I was actually about to jump into the shower. Do you mind if I leave you alone for a few minutes?"

Just the opportunity Rodney needed! Containing his excitement, he nodded quickly, "That's fine. I'll wait in here for you."

His neighbor hesitated for a moment, his eyes on Rodney with a look of…something. The latter wasn't exactly sure how to identify it, but it made the man's eyes look beautifully warm. But this was not the time to think about it.

Once he could hear the shower running, Rodney scoured the apartment in search of his sunglasses. On every table, between both couches' cushions-which he had to push the snoozing dog around to get to-, beside the television, in the kitchen. The only places he dared not search was the bathroom and the bedroom, the latter because he didn't think it wise to enter the room that could single-handedly spawn several fantasies.

When the shower cut off, he dashed over to the couch and sat himself down, trying his best to look casual.

His neighbor strutted in barely a minute later only wearing a towel. And as Rodney's eyes focused on that wet, naked chest, he realized that suggesting the man go change was not his best idea.

-tbc-


	6. A second later

John plopped down on the opposite couch, watching Rodney blatantly stare at his chest. He could only imagine what was going through the man's head; yet another fantasy about Rodney that would receive his full attention…later.

It still seemed too unbelievable that, with only four people living along this hallway, Rodney was right next door. The Rodney that he'd shared chance meetings with three times before. That had to be coincidence, right? Certainly nothing to denote the intervention of fate or destiny.

Coincidence was the only option. Because, although John distinctly remembered each encounter, even the first one when he was only four years old, their interactions barely made an impression on Rodney, as he could never recall John. Every time their paths crossed, John tried a little harder to be memorable, and still nothing.

Until today.

Shaking his head, John decided to put an end to the silence, as well as his guest's gawking. "So I take it you didn't find what you wanted."

Rodney's cheeks flashed a deep red, and his eyes whipped up to meet John's. "What?"

"My sunglasses."

"_My_ sunglasses," he corrected. "And…I have no idea what you're talking about." His eyes wandered the apartment guiltily.

"Of course." As if it hadn't been obvious what Rodney wanted the instant he stepped into John's apartment. Well…for a moment there, John could pretend his neighbor had been there for him, not for the sunglasses. What was so special about those sunglasses anyway? John had his reasons for wanting them, but why did Rodney want them back so badly?

"Right." His gaze still purposefully avoided John's general direction.

"I'm getting kinda hungry. You want to grab something to eat?"

Rodney's eyes finally focused on him again. "What?"

"Dinner. I'm asking you if you'd like to go to dinner."

"Like a date?"

"We've had sex, Rodney. It seems only fair that we get a meal out of the deal too, even if it is a few years late."

He blinked. "Okay."

"I'll drive. Just give me a minute to get dressed, and feel free to search the apartment again, if you want."

--------

Rodney opened the car door, and sat in the passenger seat of the black sport's car. Really, could this guy be any more of a 'hot guy with hot wheels' cliché? And McKay was about to ask him that when something caught his eye. Suspended oh so innocently from the driver's visor were his sunglasses! No wonder the guy let Rodney search his apartment!

Unable to stop himself, his arm shot out to grab them, but his neighbor's hand wrapped around Rodney's wrist and held him away from his goal.

"How about we take a night off from the custody battle?" his neighbor asked.

Huffing, Rodney conceded as his hand was released, "Fine."

"Good. I'm John Sheppard, by the way. Now, let's see how long we can make it before I have to introduce myself to you again."

-tbc-


	7. 30 Minutes Later

-----

**30 minutes later**

John shook his head as their waiter made his immediate escape from the table. His eyes followed the poor young man, curious as to how he would react once away from Rodney, who simply had to be the worst customer he'd ever seen. Muffled laughter erupted when he saw the waiter gesture to their table, then produce a bottle of wine and pour himself a glass.

It was decided…John was going to have to leave a tip that rivaled the check itself.

Something about Rodney had warned John that this first date wouldn't go as smoothly as he'd like, but he hadn't been prepared for this. To start off, they'd argued for 20 minutes about where to go eat.

John suggested seafood; Rodney said they used citrus in everything, and that, unless John wanted to end the date in the emergency room, seafood was out of the question.

Then, John mentioned a steak house, and Rodney proceeded to describe, in detail, how unsanitary they were, once again asking if he was planning to have their goodnight kiss in a hospital.

Chinese was passed up when McKay pointed out that MSG wasn't something they should _intentionally_ try to include in their diet.

Finally giving up on any form of a compromise, John made a dictatorial decision and drove them to an Italian restaurant. And that was when the real fun had begun.

Who knew Rodney was such a picky eater? It soon became clear that he ate _everything_…well, almost everything. But the problem arose when it came to the actual preparation of the food; it had to be made to his specifications. With each order, there was a list of changes that had to be made. Garlic bread with a minimal amount of garlic. Chicken parmigiana thoroughly cooked – did they realize how many diseases are caused by improperly cooked chicken? There's absolutely nothing resembling citrus in the water? Could they bring out the bread some time soon – did they not listen to him when he said he was hypoglycemic?

"So, Rodney," John tried to steal his date's attention away from the silverware that said date was wiping off with a napkin.

McKay's head rose once he finished cleaning his utensils. "Yes?"

Letting his best grin surface, he said, "I've known you almost all my life, but I don't really know anything about you. What is it that you do when you're not terrorizing waiters?"

Rodney's eyes narrowed slightly, but he still replied, "I'm an astrophysicist who is currently working on a wormhole model. Now, what is it _you_ do when you're not stealing people's sunglasses?"

John laughed as their food was brought out to them, which elicited a strange look from their waiter. He waited until they were alone again before answering, "I'm a flight instructor. Though, when the mood strikes me, I actually work as a pilot."

A sound of disgust from across the table made John look up from his meal, but, to his confusion, his date actually looked amused.

-tbc-


	8. 2 Seconds Later

-----

**2 Seconds Later**

A pilot. The guy was a pilot. He drove a black sport's car. _And_ he had that classic 'rakish' look to him. Suddenly, Rodney was certain that he was never going to be able to watch another Tom Cruise movie without imagining John as the hero.

He was also sure that there was no way that John could be interested in him. Guys like that didn't date astrophysicists. However, they also didn't sleep with astrophysicists, and John had already done that one.

Hmm.

"What's wrong with being a flight instructor?" Rodney's date asked, his wrinkled forehead giving him a cutely confused look.

The side of Rodney's lips quirked up. "You don't even realize it, do you? Let me just say this: I'm willing to bet dinner that your favorite movie is _Top Gun_."

That familiar, cocky smirk was back in an instant. "Then you'd lose that bet, but since I'm already taking care of this dinner, we'll just have to go out again so I can collect my winnings."

"What!" Rodney jerked back in his seat. "If that's not your favorite movie, then what is?"

"If you want to know that one, we have to have dinner a few more times, as that is _clearly_ a third date question."

"And how exactly is that a third date question?"

"Look, Rodney," John threw his arm over the back of his seat, "if you want to know the intimate details of my life, you're going to have to get closer to me."

Rodney tried to make his expression as dull as possible, making sure to hide how the promise in that sentence excited him. "Only if you give me back my sunglasses."

A serious expression settled on John's face as he leaned forward, clearly trying to prove to Rodney that he was sincere. "Is that what it would take for you to give us a try?"

"No. First, I want to know why you want to keep them so badly."

"They're yours."

The scientist couldn't keep his goofy smile hidden at that revelation, even if he'd wanted to. But after taking a moment to enjoy this new information, he collected himself, "Yes, well…I choose the next restaurant. And we really have to do something about your dog barking in the middle of my shows; I can only imagine how annoying it's going to be when he's sitting right next to us on the couch. Oh, and we're going to have to decide who gets the sunglasses. Since they were originally mine, I think I should have priority, though if you're willing to argue that your possession of them the last few years has given you a substantial claim…"

John interrupted, "I'm sure we'll be able to negotiate a joint custody agreement so that we both get what we want."

"Oh? And what is it that you want?"

"You."

-end-


End file.
